Page 58 of Why Not Forever?

“Yeah?”

I falter before I say anything else. He hasn’t brought up the flower. Maybe I shouldn’t either.

“Um. Maybe bread instead of crackers this time?” I say instead, but I’m still looking at that white paper rose, because now, sitting in the vase next to it is a red one.

Chapter 21

Tanner

Thenextday,Vicshoves me out of the apartment, telling me she’s fine and to go into the office. She’s planning to do some work from home today, getting ready for us to go to Whistler tomorrow. She said she’s feeling a lot better and still wants to go, so I’m going into the office to get ready for our mini vacation as well. I arrive before anyone else and organize all the files I’d had at home. I plug my laptop into my monitors and get to work answering emails. After about an hour, I go into the kitchen and pour myself a cup of coffee.

“Good morning,” Richard says as he comes in behind me. “Enjoy your day off?”

I suppress a sigh. I knew he’d make a big deal of this.

“I didn’t take the day off, Richard. I probably worked more yesterday than I do when I’m in the office. I didn’t have anyone talking to me except for the one planned meeting which I conducted over video call.”

I also worked more hours than I usually do because I’d needed something to distract me from how worried I was about Vic, but I don’t tell Richard that.

He scoffs and pours his coffee. He’s old school, believing if you’re not in the office, you’re slacking. The only reason we have laptops these days is because it’s easier to go to meetings and bring your whole computer with you than to try to print out millions of reports. I’ve explained to him and the Board multiple times that allowing work-from-home options will boost morale and offer higher productivity outcomes, but no one cares about my statistics. No one cares that, when we were forced to work from home a few years ago, production levels soared, and when we were forced back into the office, they took a significant dip.

“I’m going to need that report on the Mile Ten Hotel by the end of the day,” Richard says, leaning against the counter. He looks smug, like he’s certain I’ll have to stay late today to make up the time I lost yesterday.

I keep my expression neutral as I sip my coffee. “I sent it to you this morning. It’s in your inbox.”

“Oh,” he says.

I don’t let him say any more. “I also finished the proposal for Gold Creek, the finances for Pine Ridge, and the final report for Canyon Cove. I only got half of the Marble Creek Golf Course proposal done, so that’s what I’ll be working on today.” I straighten and move to return to my office. “Oh,” I say, pausing when I’m next to him. “And Vic is doing better. Thanks for asking.”

When I get to my office, I close the door behind me. I sit at my desk and take off my glasses to rub a hand over my face. I shouldn’t have said that last part, but he infuriates me sometimes. I didn’t use to have such a hard time keeping my thoughts to myself. I could work with Richard and ignore his high-handed manipulations and derogatory comments, reminding myself that I have every intention of leaving this place at some point. But it’s become harder now that I’m supposed to own a piece of it, tying myself to Sterling and Richard for years. And Vic is his daughter. He didn’t even ask how she’s doing.

The morning is eaten quickly by work. I finish the Marble Creek Golf Course proposal and print it out to bring to the Board meeting this afternoon. I spend an hour at the office gym, a small one with two treadmills and a few dumbbells and kettle bells. Then I return to my desk with my lunch and continue working as I eat. I research other projects we could do, making a list for the Board meeting. About half an hour before the meeting, I’m feeling drained. I don’t really want to go. I don’t want to pitch these ideas, or the Mile Ten Hotel project. I don’t care about any of it. Fridays are the worst day of the week.

I open my desk drawer and pull out a square piece of paper. I keep a bunch of it in there because, as weird as it sounds, origami has always been relaxing for me. I started it back when Juliet was little. It was something we used to do together all the time. She kind of grew out of it, but I found, whenever I was stressed, the mindlessness of it would help clear my head. I don’t have to think about the folds for most of the things I create.

I set down my pen and pick up the paper. This time, I want to create something specific and I can’t quite remember how to do it, so I navigate to the origami website I like and fold the paper until I’ve made a bunny. The paper is blue with stars and swirls. It’s cute. I can already envision Vic rolling her eyes at me when I give it to her, and the small smile she’ll try to hide, but I’ll notice, anyway.

I sigh and pick up my documents and my laptop and head to the meeting. It’s as annoying as ever, a bunch of old-boys’-club boys who know exactly what they’re doing and how they’re going to do it. As I suspected, they want proposals for the hotel and the restaurant I’d found, but don’t like the idea for the small art gallery or the café. I maintain my neutral expression through the whole meeting. When I return to my office, I congratulate myself on a job well done with another coffee and more work.

At the end of the day, I pack everything up, including my laptop, so I can do some more work at home tonight before we leave tomorrow morning, when Richard stops in without knocking on my door.

“Leaving early?” he asks.

I swallow back the retort, then turn to him. “I’ve been here since 7am. It’s 4pm. I’m actually leaving an hour late. Did you need anything else before I head out?”

“I just wanted to talk to you. I understand Victoria was sick the last couple of days, but was leaving work really necessary?”

I don’t want to have this conversation. I’m not sure I can maintain my calm exterior if he pushes the issue. But he’s still my boss, until he decides to sign over the company—something he’s not mentioned once since the wedding, despite our contract.

I sit and motion for him to take the seat on the opposite side of my desk.

“I didn’t take the days off, Richard,” I remind him. “I was still working. I just did it at home.”

“What if there had been an important meeting?” he asks.

“There wasn’t. There was just the one with the suppliers, which was easier over video call, anyway. They asked if we could do all our meetings that way in the future, to save them having to come into Vancouver.”

“What if there had been?” he presses. “What if I’d needed something? Or someone else had needed something?”

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